Chapter Thirty-seven

 

a prince ought to take more care of his people’s happiness than of his own, as a shepherd is to take more care of his flock than of himself

Utopia by Thomas More (translated by H. Morley)

 

“Norfolk.” Parker closed the door of Fitzroy’s private chambers and stepped into the passage, his body blocking the way. He should not be surprised that Norfolk had the nerve to come here. To see for himself whether his plan to kill Fitzroy had come to nothing.

“I hear of great escapades, Parker. Of rides through the streets of London, with the King’s son beneath your cloak.”

“And I hear of French spies accepting a job to kill the King’s son from a nobleman of this court, and have someone who saw one of those spies visit a particular nobleman’s house during the negotiations.”

Norfolk drew back, his head jerking as if Parker had slapped him with his glove. “And what have you done with what you have heard?”

“I have only my informant’s word on where the spy went. But I will try to find proof of that nobleman’s identity, and then, of course, I will take all I know to the King.”

“Of course.” Norfolk took a step back. “Of course you will.” His lips formed a thin, bitter line. “You know, it would serve me well to have you killed Parker. You are nothing but a thorn in my side.”

“I might say the same.” Parker’s gaze flicked over Norfolk’s shoulder, saw the two guards who had helped him at Durham House coming down the corridor.

He accepted their salute, and felt a lift of tension. These two, at least, could be trusted. “No one comes in without Master Croke’s approval. And you escort his lordship wherever he may go, within the palace or without.”

They nodded their agreement and took up place, hard-eyed, before the door.

“You might take this advice,” Parker said as he and Norfolk walked away. “If any accident should befall Fitzroy, I will go to the King with your name, whether I have conclusive proof, or not.”

“He would not believe it.” Norfolk barked out a laugh, but Parker could smell the stink of his fear, sharp and sour.

Parker stepped away from him, turned back to the King’s rooms to find Susanna. “Perhaps he won’t.” He shrugged. “It’s a chance I’ll take to bring you down.”

As he walked away, the spot between his shoulders twitched. If Norfolk could, his dagger would be buried there. To the hilt.

He only regretted there was almost no hope of connecting Norfolk to the assassination attempt. The word of a street boy against the Duke of Norfolk would never stand. And he was sure none of the spies had been foolish enough to remain in London. They were long gone now.

And once again, Norfolk weaselled himself free.

* * *

Susanna closed the door behind her and stared at it.

“King got your tongue?”

She choked back a scream and spun round. Saw Will Somers leaning against the passage wall. She lifted a hand to her heart and took a deep breath. “That was not kind.”

“I am not kind. Or so they say.” He lifted a shoulder.

“I say they are wrong.” She slipped the ring from her finger, and held it out. “And I thank you. I did not need to use it, but there were many occasions on which it would have saved me, had fate not been on my side.”

“Ah. Fate or your own cleverness, mistress? I think it would be hard to tell.” He took it from her with a smile, and it disappeared into a pocket. No doubt later he would slip it back where he had found it, and no one would be the wiser. Except for her. He had risked a great deal for her.

“Why do you help me?”

“I would say that it is merely a whim, but the truth of it is—”

“Susanna?”

Parker was suddenly standing behind the King’s Fool, almost invisible in his dark clothes in the gloom.

She held Somers’ gaze. “The truth of it is?”

“Nothing. Nothing that cannot wait for another day.” He turned to Parker and bowed. “My congratulations on a rescue of great daring, sir. You are flying high in the King’s favour now.”

“That could change in a moment, as you know.” Parker watched Somers with a strange look in his eyes. “But it would take a lot for you to be out of favour with me, Fool. I am in your debt for the aid you leant us.”

“I ask you but one thing, regarding this esteem in which you hold me, and the deed itself.” Somers backed down the passageway.

“And what is that?”

“Do not tell anyone of it.” The Fool laughed, a high, mocking sound. “It would quite ruin me.”